Frankly Speaking
by NettieC
Summary: A response to the June HBX Challenge. Harm is dealing with a personal crisis, leaving Mac out once again. This time intervention comes from a most unlikely source - and with perfect results.


**Disclaimer: They don't belong to me but you know that already.**

Here are Challenge **2009** lines for June.

Mac: I'm only a phone call away.

_Yeah, Baby_

Frankly Speaking

It was a plain, white, commander system telephone. There were a few lights lit up indicating calls in progress, there were the options for a speaker phone, holding a call and a dozen other features Mac had never used before. It sat next to her computer and had done since she'd occupied this office but today she was studying it for the first time.

Well, maybe not studying it, but willing it to ring.

Most of the staff had already departed for the evening but Mac was holding vigil by her phone. Desperate to speak to Harm, she was reluctant to leave, even though she knew he could just as easily call her cell or her landline at home. But this phone had a pulling power, it was the last one she had spoken to him on, the last one his voice filtered edgily down the line, it was the one she hoped would link them once more.

Nearing 2100, General Cresswell startled her when he appeared at her door to investigate the desk lamp aglow in the darkened office.

"I thought you left hours ago," he said, from her doorway.

"Oh, sorry, sir," she said scrambling to her feet.

"At ease, at ease," he said, gesturing for her to sit once more. "Something pressing?" he asked, gesturing towards her desk.

"No, not really, more like wishful..." she paused as she considered how to end her sentence.

"Thinking?" Cresswell offered and Mac nodded. "Heard from Commander Rabb today?"

"Earlier this morning, sir," she said, with a nod.

"And how are things?" he asked, leaning against the jamb.

"His mom's still unconscious, and while they reversed the treatment nothing's happened," she reported with a sigh.

Three days ago, Trish Barnett had been driving alone in her car when she'd blown a tyre on the interstate and had careered of the road and tumbled into a ravine and sustaining critical injuries. Remaining conscious throughout her ordeal, the doctors had placed her in an induced coma not long after her arrival at hospital to try and reduce the swelling on her brain. While they had reversed that treatment the day previous, she remained unconscious, much to Harm's dismay.

When she had finally got a hold of him after he arrived in San Diego, he had updated her on his mother's condition and she had asked him to call her when he knew more or if he needed to talk – he didn't. The day before, she had left countless messages before she got through on the Barnett house phone and she had spoken to Frank.

Frank was the one who told her Harm was struggling, that he seemed to be making this his fault, that Mac paying him a visit might help.

Last night, she'd tossed and turned wondering if she should go to La Jolla to be with him. Harm hadn't asked her, he hadn't even called her, hadn't indicated his need for her in anyway, yet Frank thought it would be a good idea.

"Mac," General Cresswell said, breaking her from her thoughts. "I think it's time you went home. You have closing arguments tomorrow and Harm will still be able to find you there."

"Yes, sir," she said getting to her feet.

"See you tomorrow, Colonel," he said as he headed back to his office once more.

"Good night, sir," she replied as she collected her things.

Just before she left, Mac grabbed her cell and pressed one on her speed dial. Finding the call going through to his voice mail, she left the exact same one as she had done countless times over recent days.

"Harm, it's me. I hope your mom's doing better. If you need anything I'm only a phone call away."

Neither that message, nor the seven others she left the next day, drew the response she wanted and late the next night she called the house once more, getting Frank again. The news was much the same, Trish was still unconscious, doctors weren't sure why she wasn't waking up, Harm was being silent and stoic about it.

"Mac, has he spoken to you at all?" Frank asked, the fatigue evident in his voice.

"Yesterday morning, about eight your time," Mac replied, running her fingers through her hair.

"And that's it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, with a sigh.

"I know he's getting your messages and I've been telling him to call you, but he just shakes his head and says it's okay," Frank reported. "But it's not, Mac. It really isn't. We've been doing twelve hour shifts at the hospital and he's not eating, he's not sleeping and the one morning I came home before he went in, he was lying on the sofa staring at the picture of you and he at AJ's christening, the one he sent his mother."

"Why won't he call me, Frank?" she asked quietly. It was clear he needed someone, he needed her, why wouldn't he call?"

"I don't know, Mac. I think he's feeling a bit shell-shocked by the whole thing," Frank said sadly. "I also think he may have come to the realisation that he needs you more than he's been prepared to admit."

"So, then he should be okay about calling me," she said, more to herself.

"I know it's not my place, Sarah, but I do know you've had issues yourself over recent times. Have you picked up the phone and called Harm just because you needed him?" Frank said in a fatherly manner.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I've wanted to, gone to, but something stops me."

"It's most likely the same thing that's stopping, Harm," he replied.

In bed, later that night, Mac played over the conversation with Frank again and again. Until the thing that was stopping her crystalised – her love for him. Desperate for his care and comfort, Mac had deprived herself of Harm by shutting him out when times were tough. It was self preservation. She couldn't bear the thought of turning to him only for her feelings to be left unreciprocated.

But, having realised she was in love with him, her thoughts turned to Harm – and to Frank's comment.

_'It's most likely the same thing that's stopping, Harm'._

Was it at all possible that Harm loved her? Not just love – they both knew they were loved by the other, but _in_ love.

The only conclusion she could come to was yes and it was on that note she drifted off to a dream filled slumber – which featured only her and Harm.

Rising early the next morning, Mac went for her usual run before showering and dressing for work. Upon coming from the bathroom, she noticed the red flashing light on her answering machine. Quickly, she pressed play, hoping to hear Harm's voice, instead it was Frank's.

"Hello, Sarah, I know it's early there – I don't know if you're still asleep or already left. Just thought I'd let you know that Trish's condition has deteriorated and ...well...I just thought you'd like to know."

As she made her way to headquarters, Mac's mind was in overdrive. She knew what she had to do; she just had to hope that the General was in a sympathetic mood.

After finalising her paperwork, General Cresswell had given her permission to leave early, as well as taking Thursday and Friday, which, with the long weekend, meant she could be away until Tuesday if needed. Feeling generous, and knowing the outcome for Harm's mother may not be favourable, Cresswell had also told her he expected a call by 1100 Monday if Mac needed more time, he could make arrangements through to the end of the following week.

Switching her phone on again after landing, Mac found four missed calls, all from Harm and her stomach dropped. The only time she couldn't answer was the time he'd actually called and given there were so many, she couldn't help but wonder if the worst had happened.

Quickly, she tried to return the call but all she could get was his voice message. Desperate for information, she called Frank's cell and he answered it on the third ring.

"Hello Frank, it's Sarah MacKenzie, how are things?" she asked, not wanting to ask specifically.

"Pretty good," he replied and Mac could breathe once more. "Trish is still unconscious but things have improved throughout the day."

"That's great news," she replied, more than relieved.

"Yeah, it is," he said wearily, though Mac could hear the happiness in his voice. "Have you heard from that boy of ours?"

"Sort of," Mac answered. "When I landed I turned on my phone and there were four messages from him – but I tried to call him and just got his voice mail."

"When you landed?" he questioned. "Have they sent you somewhere exciting and exotic?" he asked disappointed Mac was on the move once again.

"No, they haven't sent me anywhere," she said smiling. "I'm in a cab about fifteen minutes from your house."

"You're here? In La Jolla? Really?" he asked in quick fire succession.

"Yes, the General gave me leave and here I am!" Mac said, growing more nervous as she neared the Barnett home.

"Well, I'm at the hospital but our boy should be there, I sent him home a couple of hours ago. He'll probably be lying on the sofa," Frank reported, more than happy Mac was there to help Harm out.

When the cab turned into Harm's street, Mac pulled out her purse and grabbed the cash to cover the fare and tip. As she did, her cell rang and she smiled when she saw the caller id light up – it was Harm.

"Well, hello there," she said, before taking a deep breath.

"Hey, Mac," he replied.

"It's good to hear your voice," she said, clutching the phone tightly.

"Yours too," he said quietly. Mac could tell he was exhausted.

"How's your mom?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

"Much improved today – still unconscious but at least they are more hopeful," he reported as the cab stopped at the front of the house.

"Well, that's good," Mac replied, handing over the cash and grabbing her bag.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"You sound so tired, Harm. Have you had any sleep?" she asked, walking up the path to his door.

"Yeah," he lied. Mac was too far away to prove him wrong anyway.

"Anything I can do for you?" she asked, dropping her bag on the front porch.

"Nah," he replied shaking his head, but then thought better of it. "I'd rather wait til we're face to face, makes it easier to talk."

"True," she agreed, pressing the door bell.

"Mac, someone's at the door. Can you wait a sec?" he asked and she could hear his footsteps approach as she closed her phone and pocketed it.

The door opened and Harm found Mac on his porch, his eyes were wide in disbelief as he scanned her body, then the phone in his hand.

"We're face to face now," she said gently. "Anything I can do?"

She watched as his deep blue eyes filled with tears and instead of waiting for him to speak, she threw her arms around him and pulled him close, cradling his head to her. Soon, Harm's arms were wrapped around her and he pulled her closer than she thought was possible.

For a long while he held her as he tried to control his breathing and his feelings, he had wanted her here so desperately but couldn't even bring himself to phone her until today. Now she was in his arms he couldn't think straight, couldn't think of what to do except hold her.

Eventually, Mac pulled back marginally and freed a hand to caress his face.

"Can I come in?" she asked, her fingers running into his hair. "Please."

"Sure, sure...sorry, Mac," he said apologetically as he let her go and picked up her bag with one hand, before sliding his other hand into hers. He wasn't quite ready to let her go just yet.

Leaving her bag at the foot of the stairs, Harm led her to the kitchen before speaking once more.

"You have to be hungry, I know you don't eat that airline food," he said, heading to the fridge. "Or are you tired? Do you need to rest? Or..."

"Hey, Harm!" Mac said, tugging him back to her and draping her hands across his shoulders. "Take a breath, okay?"

"Okay," he said nodding and she studied his face.

"Harm, when's the last time you ate properly?" she asked looking into his dull, tired eyes, he just shrugged. "Or slept?" He shrugged once more. "I'll tell you what, sailor, how about you go take a shower and get out of these ..." she said, tugging on his stained sweats. "How far did you run?"

"Not far," he replied, looking down, suddenly feeling guilty he'd hugged her so closely while smelling so badly.

"How long did you run for?" she asked, knowing his sweaty clothes were evidence of more than a casual jog.

"Thirty minutes," he replied, leaving out most of it was at a full sprint, trying to dull the pain in his heart with physical pain.

"Okay," she conceded. "You go shower and I'll get us something to eat."

"It's okay, I can organ..." he began before she pressed her finger to his lips.

"I can organise dinner for us, now go," she instructed before turning him around and pushing him through the door. "And take my bag up to your room with you," she called as the door closed behind him.

"To my room?" he questioned, coming back into the kitchen. "We have a guest room."

"But I'm not here as a guest, I'm here for you," she replied with a smirk.

"You really want to stay in my room?" he asked, not believing this was actually happening.

"I sure do," she replied. "Unless you don't want me to."

"No, no, I want you to," he answered quickly, lest she change her mind. "How long do I have you for?"

Mac's first thought was 'for the rest of my life', but instead she opted for a safe response. "For as long as you need me."

Harm grinned; he needed Mac for the rest of his life and perhaps this visit would give him the opportunity to let her know it.

Twenty minutes later, as Mac was setting the cutlery on the table, Harm returned wearing blue jeans, a white tee and bare feet.

"Feel better?" she asked, as he moved across the kitchen towards her.

"Much, thanks," he replied. "Anything I can help with?"

"Well, the pasta's nearly done, and the salad's ready, so I think we're all set," she answered, leaning against the kitchen bench. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked, knowing what happened last time she asked him.

"You just being here is help enough," he replied shyly, his eyes dropping to his feet.

"Hey," she said, tugging his arm and bringing him closer to her before trying to make eye contact with him. "Hey, Harm, look at me," she said gently.

Slowly, he raised his head and his eyes locked onto hers.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice faltering.

"Want to talk to me?" she asked, her hands finding his and entwining her fingers.

"About?" he asked, trying to buy himself some time.

"Oooh, I don't know," Mac replied, squeezing his hands. "How about how you're feeling about your mom?"

"I was pretty worried for a while there, especially yesterday when things weren't going so good, but feeling much better about it today," he answered honestly.

"Did you get my messages?" she asked, not wanting to put any more pressure on him but needing to know what he'd been thinking.

"Yeah ...ah, about them ...I did get them ... I just found it hard to... to ...ah, to talk about," he stuttered, his eyes barely finding hers.

"To talk about it in general or talk about it with me?" she asked gently as she pulled him closer.

"With you," he admitted quietly. "I wanted to ... I really did," he continued earnestly. "I just found it too hard to pick up the phone. I'm so sorry," he apologised, resting his head on hers.

"You don't have to apologise," she replied as her hand caressed his neck.

"I need you, so much," he continued, his hands slipping around her waist.

"Well, I'm here now," she said, holding onto him until the timer dinged and dinner was ready.

After dinner, Harm led Mac to the study and flicked on the television, not that he wanted to watch anything but he thought the distraction would help. Sitting at one end of the sofa, Mac watched as Harm fiddled with items around the room, not quite able to settle just yet. When she at last caught his eye, she held out her hand.

"I don't bite you know," she said, beckoning him over.

"Yeah, I know," he agreed, moving to sit near her.

"You're so tired, Harm," she said, running her index finger over the dark circle under his left eye.

"I'm okay," he replied, though he knew he wasn't.

"No, you're not," she argued, grabbing the cushion from between them and placing it on her lap. "Lie down," she said and helped ease him down so his head was on the cushion. Pulling the throw rug down over him, Mac began to run her fingers through his hair, pleased he wasn't resisting.

Before long he was snoring softly and Mac smiled. Sleep was the best thing for him right now and she knew she could do with some herself.

An hour later, Mac woke startled by the sound of someone entering the room. Looking around she spied Frank and was relieved.

"Hello Sarah," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb Harm.

"Hey Frank, is everything okay?" she asked, not expecting to see Frank until morning.

"Everything's great," he replied wearily.

"Really?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, Trish woke up about an hour ago," he said, smiling broadly.

"That's great," she replied. "And is everything okay?"

"More than okay," Frank answered."Doctors are impressed with her, there doesn't seem to be any brain damage."

"Thank goodness," Mac said with a sigh.

"Yes, I know," he answered. "She was even with it enough to order me home and tell me she didn't want to see me or our boy until at least two tomorrow."

"That sounds like Trish," she answered with a chuckle.

"Speaking of our boy, how is he?" Frank asked pointing to Harm's sleeping form.

"Well, he's asleep," Mac said stating the obvious.

"Good," he said nodding. "Don't think he's slept so peacefully since he's been here."

"I think he's exhausted," she replied, raking her fingers through his hair.

"I think it's more to do with you being here, Sarah," he answered with a laugh. "Now, did he feed you?"

"Yes, he did," she answered. "Actually, I fed him."

"So, maybe now you should put him to bed. It's nearly eleven and you must be exhausted coming from the east coast," he said, approaching them.

"That's a good idea," Mac said, trying to stifle a yawn. "First though, I think you should tell him about his mom."

When Harm was awake enough to comprehend Frank's news, he hugged his stepfather tightly. It was the best news he had in a long time – well, except for finding Mac on the doorstep earlier.

Slipping between the sheets of his bed wearing boxers and his white tee, Harm shifted restlessly as he listened to the shower running. He tried not to visualise Mac naked only metres away but he wasn't having much luck. When the water was shut off, he took a few deep breaths and thought of everything but Mac but one look at her as soon as the bathroom door opened and she filled his thoughts once more.

Wearing a marine green tank top and matching boy shorts, Mac climbed into the bed beside Harm before catching the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

"Nothing," he replied, and right at this point he didn't have a care in the world.

"You sure?" she asked. "You look concerned. Does it bother you having me here?"

"No!" he said quickly.

"Good," she replied, rolling over to turn off the bedside lamp, before settling next to him.

"Mac, can I ask you something?" Harm questioned quietly as he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling.

"Of course," she replied, opening her eyes.

"Why did you come?" he asked, turning to look at her. "I mean, I'm grateful you did but given I hadn't really spoken to you...I guess I'm just a little surprised."

"I came because you needed me," she said simply. "Didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did very much, but..." he began.

"So, that's why I came," she said.

"But how did you know?" he probed.

"I spoke to Frank and asked why you weren't calling me, he said it was probably for much the same reason I didn't call you when I was struggling," she explained in the darkness of his room. "And I realised if that was the case then I had to be here."

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked, thinking back to the various times Mac had been in trouble but reluctant to reach out to him.

"Because," she began before taking a deep breath. "Because I am in love with you, Harm, and I couldn't face the prospect of turning to you, only to have you turn away and ..."

"That would never have happened," Harm interjected.

"Why didn't you call me?" she questioned, hoping he'd go with the truth.

"Because I'm in love with you and I couldn't face the prospect of you not feeling the same way..." he said, which in essence echoed her words.

"So, Frank was right," Mac said with a smile.

"Yeah, seems like it," Harm said, nodding.

"He's a wise man," she continued, her hand coming up to Harm's face.

"A very wise man," he agreed as he snaked his arm around her back, his fingers finding her soft skin.

"So, we're both agreed we are in love with each other," Mac reiterated, so both understood the situation.

"Yes, we are," Harm agreed, as his head settled on Mac's pillow, his face inches from hers.

"In that case, Harm, would you mind kissing me goodnight?" she asked, her hand sitting on the back of his neck.

More than willing to oblige, Harm ran his fingers into Mac's hair before easing her head forward and brushing his lips across hers. It was soft and tender and hesitant, until Mac pushed forward and claimed his lips with hers, then it became passionate as her tongue slipped into his mouth and he reciprocated.

Eventually, breathlessly, both pulled back and Harm grinned. "I've always dreamed of having a beautiful girl in my bedroom at my parents' house," he said with a laugh.

"Well, I've always dreamed of having a Naval pilot – lawyer in mine," she replied, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Pulling her flush against him, Harm kissed Mac repeatedly.

"I love you so much, Mac," he whispered between kisses. "Thank you for being here."

"I love you too, Harm," she replied, moving her hands to frame his face. "Very much."

Entwining their bodies, Mac fell asleep quickly as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear.

When the bedroom door creaked open the next morning, Mac wearily opened her eyes and realised Harm was asleep on her, his head nestled in the crook of her neck while his legs were settled on the bed between hers.

"Hey, Sarah," said Frank peering around the door and trying to focus in the darkness of the room.

"Hi Frank," she replied, pleased he couldn't see their exact positions.

"I have a few errands to run but I'll be back by noon," he whispered, so not to wake Harm.

"Okay," she said. "Have you spoken to Trish this morning?"

"Yes, about twenty minutes ago – everything's looking good," he reported and while Mac couldn't see his face, she knew he was smiling.

"That's great, I'll tell Harm when he wakes up," she replied.

Not long after Mac heard Frank depart, Harm stirred and was embarrassed to find himself on top of Mac.

"God, I must be squashing you," he said, trying to pull away.

"Actually," she began as she caressed his face. "I'm extremely comfortable."

"But I'm so much heavier," he said, pushing up on his arms to take the pressure off her.

"Do you hear me complaining?" she asked, her hand running up and down his back.

"Well, no but..." he started and then to end the conversation, he flipped them over so Mac was on top of him. "Any complaints about this arrangement?"

"Not at all," she replied, moving up his body so she could kiss him.

Harm responded enthusiastically to the kiss before breaking it off.

"I guess we shouldn't get too carried away with Frank in the house," he said, stroking her back.

"Frank's gone to run errands," Mac informed him. "He'll be back by noon – which is in two hours and twenty seven minutes."

"How do you know? About Frank, I mean," he questioned, he already knew about the time telling thing.

"He called in to tell us. He's spoken to your mom this morning and it all looks good," she explained and watched as Harm closed his eyes, pressing his head back into the pillow.

"Thank god," he mumbled.

"You okay?" she asked, caressing his face.

"Yeah, thought the good news last night was just a dream – so I'm glad it wasn't," he said, opening his eyes and gazing at her.

"She's been very lucky," Mac said, as her fingers raked his hair.

"I know," he said, nodding. "And I've been lucky too."

"How so?" she asked, pushing up to look at him.

"I thought it was going to be a disaster – but it looks like I got all my prayers answered," he replied, gazing at her.

"So did Frank, he was so relieved," she reported.

"I bet," Harm nodded. "But I meant all my prayers – about mom and ...well, about you too," he admitted.

With that, Mac leant down and kissed him tenderly.

"I got my prayers answered too," she mumbled as his hand moved up under her tank.

After a few long, leisurely kisses, both became fully aware of just where this interlude could lead and Mac wasn't sure if it was the right time as Harm seemed reluctant to move things along.

"We don't have to do anything," she said, pulling back and rolling onto her side of the bed. "I'm more than happy to just be here with you."

"I'm happy to be here with you...but..." His voice trailed as he contemplated the end of his sentence.

"But what?" she prompted, rolling back towards him.

"But I'd...I'd like to," he said, as a flush came to his cheeks.

"You'd like to ...what?" she asked, with a smirk.

"Show you how much I love you," he replied, turning to face her. "Only if you..."

There was no need to complete the sentence as Mac climbed back on top of him and continued from where she'd just left off.

Later that day, Harm took Mac's hand in his as they stood in the elevator going up to his mother's new ward. Frank, standing alongside them couldn't help but smile; Trish was going to be so happy, and relieved, that Harm and Mac had finally moved things along.

"Hey, mom," Harm greeted, letting go of Mac's hand so he could embrace his mother.

"Hello Harmon, and Sarah, oh, it's so good to see you," Trish said happily, though her voice was raspy.

"It's great to see you, Trish," Mac said, patting her hand. "I'm so glad you are doing so well. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she replied, as her husband kissed her forehead. "A lot of fuss about nothing, if you ask me."

"Mom, you were in a coma for five days," Harm said, as he slipped his hand back into Mac's once more.

"Well, yes, I guess that was troublesome," she said, reluctantly acknowledging the drama.

"Troublesome, mom?" Harm echoed. "It was more than troublesome."

"But it's over now, son, no point discussing it," Trish replied firmly.

Instantly, Mac knew where Harm got his inability to discuss things from. She wanted to say something but decided perhaps it wasn't the time or place.

"So, is this what I think it is?" Trish asked, pointing at Harm and Mac's joined hands.

"Yes, it is," Harm replied proudly, a grin crossing his face.

"Oh, that's the best news," she said, reaching out for her son. "I am so happy for both of you."

"Thanks, Trish," Mac replied as Trish squeezed her hand.

"So, what finally made you two see sense?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

"Frank did," Mac replied and everyone looked at the man in question.

"How did you do that?" Trish asked, taking her husband's hand – he was the least likely to match-make or intervene in anyone's business.

Frank shrugged his shoulders and Mac answered the question.

"Frank made me realise that Harm and I had one thing in common in the way we dealt with personal crisis, and that was to hide from each other. He made me realise that it wasn't doing either of us any good and prompted me to fly out here," she said, looking to Frank.

"You did all that?" asked Trish, squeezing Frank's hand.

"I guess I must have," he said shrugging, though he knew exactly what he'd done and how he'd done it.

"If I may ask," Trish said quietly, looking to Mac. "What was your personal crisis, Sarah?"

Mac laughed. "It wasn't mine, it was Harm's," she said, wrapping her arm around him.

"Oh, son, what's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face. "What happened?"

Harm shook his head in disbelief, how could she not know it was her?

"Mom, it was you, your accident. We didn't know if you'd make it and I was a little stressed," he said, not willing to admit anything else.

"Me?" Trish said, taken aback. "Really?"

"Yes, really, mom," he affirmed.

"But this was nothing," she said, gesturing to the hospital bed.

"You're impossible, mom," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"And now I know where you get it from," Mac whispered when he stood and wrapped his arms around her once more.

Epilogue

Five months later, Mac was busily cleaning Harm's apartment as she waited for him to return from a seventeen day investigation. She'd missed him desperately and though they'd only been a phone call away, it didn't come close to having him here in the same room with her.

As an added surprise, his parents would be calling in. It was their first flight east since Trish's accident and they had a gala dinner for The Metropolitan Museum of Art the following night and had come in a day early to catch up with Harm and Mac.

When Harm arrived home, Mac threw herself into his arms and kissed him repeatedly.

"I take it you missed me," he said, grinning as he kissed her again.

"Just a bit," she replied, her hands moving to his head and holding it close.

"Well, we can make up for it right now," he said, scooping her up and moving towards the bedroom.

"Do you think you can wait a couple of hours?" Trish said from behind them and Harm almost dropped Mac.

"Mom! Frank! I wasn't expecting you," he said, moving to hug them both.

"I was," Mac replied. "Hey Trish, Frank," she said, as they both embraced her.

"You're looking well, mom," Harm said, ushering them to the sofa.

"I'm a little tired from the flight but other than that I'm well. The doctor says I'm fully recovered," she informed them.

"The doctor also says it's a miracle," Frank added, still amazed his wife was left with no visible sign of the accident which nearly claimed her life.

"Miracle is a bit strong," Trish said, shaking her head. "Miracles are for situations where the impossible happens. Mine wasn't a miracle, I just refused to die."

"Well, I think it's a miracle," Harm said, as his arms surrounded Mac. "And this is another miracle," he added, kissing her head. "After all these years, I still find it hard to believe that you are actually in love me."

"That's not a miracle," Mac said with a laugh. "That's a given. How could I not fall in love with you?"

"Well, true," he said smugly, and moved as Mac went to punch his arm.

"I think the miracle is that given all the odds, that I'm pregnant," she said, looking at Harm.

Watching the emotions play across his face, Mac waited for her news to register.

"You're pregnant?" he whispered. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Mac replied, holding onto him.

"Oh my god, that is a miracle," he said, still stunned.

"And it was all my doing," said Frank and everyone looked at him. "Well, not getting Mac pregnant, obviously," he said, colouring at the thought. "But getting you two together – that was all me."

"Yes, it was," Mac agreed. If it hadn't been for Frank she would never have gone to Harm and nothing would have changed.

And so, seven months later, when Mac gave birth to their daughter just before Christmas, the name was a given, Holly Frances...7pounds 2 ounces, perfect in everyway...and proof that miracles do happen.

**Thanks for reading AND reviewing**.


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